


You Were Better

by JayOrLex



Series: A Broken World For Broken People [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Absolutely nothing but sad, F/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22612354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayOrLex/pseuds/JayOrLex
Relationships: Craig Boone/Female Courier, Craig Boone/Original Female Character
Series: A Broken World For Broken People [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1459681
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	You Were Better

She wasn't Carla. She knew that. 

The first week she was too scared to even talk to him. She'd nod when he spotted enemies, shy away from him when they'd find shelter to catch some sleep in. Her bedroll was as far away as far away could get. 

He didn't know what changed, or how. Maybe it was when she learned about Bitter Springs. When she was sure she'd helped him rid of the demons of his past. She had, when he stopped to think. Maybe it didn't end like he'd thought, like he hoped, but she helped him. But she still wasn't Carla. 

She stayed with him the first time he was hurt. Stood in front of a drugged out Fiend for her like a shield, took laser blasts all over his chest. He was out of it for weeks. But it didn't matter to her. When he woke, she was there, holding his hand and smirking without saying anything. Carla would've said something. 

It was a different story when she got hurt. The bullet holes in her head finally figured out she wasn't dead after all, tried finishing the job. She was out of commission for a long time. It felt different for him than when Carla would get sick. He didn't know how and he didn't care to find out. Figuring it out might make him forget, and he didn't want to. She wasn't Carla. No one was Carla. 

They'd talked about getting a place together when this was all over. She'd brought it up a couple nights before the assault on Hoover Dam. He'd told her that House wouldn't let her stay anywhere but the strip. She laughed at that, looked straight into the camera above their bed and said that the old pile of dust could kiss her ass. Carla would never have dared speak like that to such a well respected figure.

She told him she loved him and then she was gone. Chasing after the Legate in the camp, pleading with him not to follow. To go back to the Lucky 38 where it was safe. He made her promise she'd come back. It was the first time she couldn't look him in the eyes. He forgot how to breathe as he bit into his jaw hard enough to keep his emotions in check. Carla had never given him a reason to cry, had never made him miss her like this. Had never made his heart feel like his chest wasn't enough for it anymore. 

It took three days too long for him to catch a glimpse of her too-bright red hair sliding into the door. She shuffled around the room as if she hadn't slept for years. He couldn't stop his feet from running to her, catching her as she fell and clutching her to his chest. Couldn't stop his arms from wrapping around her small frame and lifting her, his legs from carrying them both up the steps. Couldn't stop from gently laying her down on their bed, tucking the blankets around her, his lips lingering sweet on her forehead being the one thing that sent her off to a dreamless, deep sleep. He sat in the chair next to her, drawing shapes in her skin as she slept. Watched her sleep for hours before he crawled into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her frame and pulling her closer to him. Carla wouldn't have liked that. 

It felt far too good to be real. Standing at the fort with House's army of securitrons behind them. They'd actually done it, against all odds. Fought off the army that took everything away from him and still demanded more, the repugnant stench that was the Legion that killed his wife and unborn child, stole the Courier's youth from her when they made her their sex slave. 

And here they stood now. Strong and hard against the storms of their past, what was left of the two armies scampering as rogue survivors into the dust. It was a time to be born again. Start anew, at 26 and 28. They'd talked about getting married. Having a baby. Maybe even naming it after Boone's late mother. He knew that that meant he'd finally moved on from Carla. He realized now, for the first time in forever, that he was happy to not care.

It was almost poetic, the way he died. A stray bullet from a malfunctioning securitron when they were embracing that struck him in the chest. Right where his heart was. Right where it was reforming, shaping to fit into the Courier's instead. She felt him go stiff, then slip out of her arms and thud hard against the cold earth. He heard her gasp, saw her vibrant blue eyes appear in his blurry vision. She was screaming his name, pushing her hands tight against the bleeding. Too much blood, too hard to breathe. Wouldn't let him say all the words he needed to say, should have said to her long ago. 

He didn't have much time left. 

Weakly, he lifted his hands to both of her cheeks, coaxing her forward and to his lips. Just one last time. He hoped he had made it count. 

He pulled her away, wiping at the tears spilling from her ocean eyes. He took a shaky breath, one that he knew would be his last, and used it to say as best as he knew how. 

"You weren't Carla." She gasped in between the tears, nodding and closing her eyes. He couldn't have that, pinching weakly at her cheeks until she looked at him again. 

"You were better."

And then he was gone.


End file.
